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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600795">Don't Wait For The Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficerAerynSun/pseuds/OfficerAerynSun'>OfficerAerynSun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rookie Blue, Saving Hope (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Shamelessly shippy, Totally self indulgent excuse for my faves to interact</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:22:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficerAerynSun/pseuds/OfficerAerynSun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you -- my shrink? Wasn't getting shot bad enough for one night?"</p><p>Charlie Harris had met a lot of stubborn spirits, but Detective Sam Swarek might just give them all a run for their money.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy McNally/Sam Swarek, Charlie Harris/Alex Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a crossover fic between 'Saving Hope' and 'Rookie Blue' and contains major spoilers for both shows. Obviously I don't own anything. I'm just indulging my plot bunnies. This fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.</p><p>This takes place during Rookie Blue's season 5 premiere. In the Saving Hope timeline, it takes place during season 3, somewhere between the episodes "The Heartbreak Kid" and "The Other Side of Midnight." </p><p>Contains shameless McSwarek and Chalex feels.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One problem with spirits, Charlie had learned, was that most of them didn’t<em> look </em>like spirits. Not the kind you saw in the movies, anyway. There were no white sheets, no dragging chains. They looked like flesh and blood. And sometimes -- more often than he cared to admit -- it wasn’t so easy to tell the difference. </p><p>But that wasn’t a problem this time. Charlie didn’t need the unpleasantly familiar tingle down his spine to tell him that the man in the middle of the hallway was a ghost. <em> Confused look, ignored by everyone who passed. </em>He might as well have had a flashing neon sign above his head.</p><p>Charlie sighed. He’d gone nearly an entire shift without any <em> otherworldly </em>company. But if his luck of late was anything to go by, he should have known the peace wouldn’t last. With a furtive glance over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, Charlie approached.</p><p>The first thing he noticed was the badge. It gleamed on the man’s hip, peeking out beneath the hem of a leather jacket. <em> A police officer. </em> It made sense. He’d seen the news. He’d been on call when two other officers had been rushed through the ER. But this guy definitely wasn’t either of them...</p><p>The next thing he noticed was the look on the man’s face -- it was the look of somebody who’d just been hit by a metaphysical truck. A look Charlie had seen a hundred times before. <em> That was his cue. </em>He cleared his throat lightly and glanced up from the patient file he’d been pretending to peruse.</p><p>“Something I can help you with, officer?”</p><p>The man’s head snapped toward him. He blinked in surprise.</p><p>“You can see me.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“Yep. And before you ask -- <em> no, </em> nobody else can.”</p><p>Charlie could see the man turning that over in his mind. His brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin, determined line. Charlie recognized <em> that </em> look too -- he’d seen it in the mirror plenty of times over the past couple years. It was the look of a man trying to find something rational in a situation that was anything but. </p><p>“Who are you?” he said finally.</p><p>Charlie let out a breath. This speil was almost second nature to him now. “My name’s Charlie. I’m a surgeon here at the hospital. And right now, you’re a ghost. Or a spirit -- or whatever you want to call --” He waved a hand idly in the other man’s direction. “-- <em> this….” </em>   He didn’t pause to see how <em> that </em> one went over.  “The way this generally works is --”</p><p>“Whoa, whoa -- hang on. You’re saying I’m <em> dead?” </em> the man interrupted. His mask of cool composure had slipped just a little. </p><p>“Not necessarily,” Charlie replied calmly. “You could just --”</p><p>But before he could finish explaining that there were plenty of <em> non-lethal </em> reasons he could be here, the man turned on his heel and started down the corridor in the direction of the lobby and the exit beyond. Charlie sighed. This happened sometimes. It was a lot to take in -- and some people had a hard time accepting what, in all fairness, <em> did </em> sound like a load of supernatural bullshit. Hell, even <em> he’d </em> been that guy once.</p><p>He didn’t follow him. It would only be a few moments before the man realized he couldn’t leave the hospital. <em> In fact… </em> He glanced at his watch, and counted down in his head. <em> 3, 2, 1, aaaand -- </em></p><p>“Wait -- I was just…”</p><p>Charlie turned and, sure enough, there was the officer, confused as ever -- this time, not doing such a good job of hiding it.</p><p>“As I was saying… you’re a <em> ghost,” </em>   Charlie said, the hint of an <em> I told you so </em> smile on his lips. “Maybe you’re dead. Maybe you’re in a coma -- you could even just be on the operating table. I don’t know. But there’s definitely a reason you’re... <em> like this. </em> ” His eyebrows raised inquiringly. “If you want to tell me your <em> name </em>, I can find out…”</p><p>The other man didn’t answer at first. He looked distracted, like a million terrible scenarios were running through his mind at once. At last, he looked back at Charlie, as if he’d just remembered he was still there.</p><p>“Uh -- Swarek. Sam Swarek. I’m a detective with the Metro Police. I was --” He frowned, the memory slowly coming back. Suddenly, surprise dawned on his face. “I got shot.” As if out of instinct, his hand went to his left side. “I was at the station. I was talking to --” He stopped himself quickly and, for an instant, Charlie saw an unreadable <em> something </em> cloud his features. </p><p>“There was a man --” he went on. “He was in the station -- hunting down cops from my division because…” Sam stopped again and let out a tired breath. “It’s a long story…”  Finally, he shrugged, and something like a dry, almost sardonic smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “Anyway -- he shot me.”</p><p>Charlie nodded.</p><p>“Okay then, Detective Swarek,” he said, returning the slight smile. “Let’s go see if you’re dead.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam was silent until they were alone in the elevator. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> if I was dead?” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first not to,” he said matter of factly. With a sideways glance at the other man, he added, “If it makes you feel any better, if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> dead, I’d probably have heard about it by now. You guys caused </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> the stir tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, thanks. That’s a big help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the sarcasm. He’d take </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>over hysteria and panic any day. Just then, the elevator doors dinged open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay -- moment of truth,” he said, making his way towards the bank of operating rooms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie stopped beside the nurses’ station, eyes scanning the electronic signs above each O.R. door. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. </span>
  <em>
    <span>O.R. 2. Swarek.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He glanced over at Sam, ready to point it out, but the detective was way ahead of him. He was staring at the sign too, an inscrutable expression on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hang on. I’m just gonna find out who your --” But Charlie’s reassuring words died on his lips when the O.R. door swung open and his unasked question was answered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex was his surgeon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, he froze, the spirit at his side forgotten. All he could see was the look she’d had on her face the last time they’d spoken. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are my heart. My whole heart. You’re it for me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His own words came back to him, settling like heavy weights in the pit of his stomach. If he was being honest, he’d been avoiding her -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>and Joel</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- as best he could. There were plenty of other ways he could punish himself besides watching the two of them together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She saw him too and, for a split second, he saw his own struggle reflected in her eyes. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced with the polite, detached smile he was getting to know all too well. It was the only kind of smile she’d had for him since she’d woken up from her coma. She probably thought she was being kind, letting him down gently -- but each time he saw it, the knife twisted a little deeper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that the officer who was shot?” He cut right to the point. He couldn’t deal with whatever empty small talk she might be on the verge of offering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex glanced over her shoulder to the OR window and the patient being prepped inside. She nodded. “One of them. Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s it looking?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head as she hurried to the sink to begin scrubbing up. “Too soon to tell. He lost a lot of blood at the scene. There wasn’t time for imaging, so I’ll have to get in there to see how bad it is…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam stiffen. Charlie followed Alex to the sink, watching through the window as the nurses prepped for surgery. His next question, though directed at Alex, was meant for both of them. “Anybody we should call? Family?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex sighed, deliberately focusing on her soapy hands rather than his face. “I think someone’s tracking down next of kin, but... I get the feeling his family is already here,” she said. He didn’t have to ask who she meant. He’d seen the coterie of uniformed officers in the lobby, waiting anxiously for news. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie ventured a glance at Sam. If he was listening to the conversation, he didn’t show it. He was transfixed by the sight of his own body laid out on the operating table. His face had gone white and his arms were crossed defensively over his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh yeah, pal. It’s a trip alright.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Alex wasn’t finished. “There was one officer, though -- she stayed with him until we brought him up here. I didn’t catch her name, but…” Her eyes flicked toward Charlie before quickly, almost guiltily, returning to her hands. “I think it’s safe to say she wasn’t handling it well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That got Sam’s attention. He tore his eyes away from the morbid sight in front of him and fixed them on Alex instead. “McNally,” he said after a beat. “Ask her if it was Andy McNally.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Officer McNally, maybe?” Charlie said, as if the name had just occurred to him. Alex looked up in surprise. He came up with a hasty excuse. “I -- uh -- I heard an Officer McNally ask for an update on my way up… Thought it might be the same one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex eyed him curiously for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, actually --” she said at last. “That sounds right…” With that, she shut off the faucet. Hands up to avoid contamination, she turned from the sink, looking at him fully for the first time since the conversation began. The polite, soul-killing smile was back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wish me luck,” she said, heading back into the O.R. before waiting for a response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good luck,” he replied under his breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s good, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t even noticed that Sam had moved closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s the best.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>McNally.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way Sam said her name told Charlie plenty. If his job was to help make the spirit’s journey easier, the tension in the officer’s voice was enough to tell him this McNally was going to play a big part in that. Whoever she was, he needed to find her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he wound his way back through the halls, Sam was close behind. For a few minutes, there was silence between them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charlie was starting to notice a pattern with this guy.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Most of the time, a spirit wanted to know everything. They peppered him with panicked questions, desperately seeking any reassurance he could give them. But not Sam. If he had questions, they were raging in his own head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until finally, as if reading Charlie’s thoughts, he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So -- you just do this all the time? Talk to dead people?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First of all, you’re not dead. And yes. I do. Or -- I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s… it’s a long story…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I bet.” Sam flashed him a humorless smirk. “And you’re still sane?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie barked out a laugh. “That’s debatable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as they rounded a corner, the smirk on the other man’s lips vanished. Charlie followed Sam’s gaze to where it rested on a woman he hadn’t seen before. She was leaning against the wall, brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and wearing clothes that looked like a rumpled afterthought. Her face was pale and she barely seemed to notice the bustling hospital around her as she stared at a fixed point on the opposite wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s --?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Andy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie ventured a glance at Sam. His expression alone would have confirmed who she was. His face didn’t betray much, but the look in his eyes was impossible to disguise. It was something else Charlie knew all too well -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>longing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked away, offering the man as private a moment as he could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam cleared his throat. “Could you -- uh -- Could you say something to her? Tell her -- I don’t know...” His eyes hadn’t left the woman for a second. It was all the guidance Charlie needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moved towards her. “Officer McNally? I’m Dr. Harris.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her head snapped up, startled. It was like she’d been in a world all by herself. She pushed herself away from the wall, absently smoothing her shirt. “Yeah -- that’s me. But - um - Andy’s fine. You can call me Andy…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words tumbled out quickly, a spill of nerves that had been waiting to bubble over. Her eyes were grave. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pained.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She crossed her arms over her chest and Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if it was to keep her hands from shaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this about Sam?” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “How is he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He just went into surgery,” Charlie said. “There’s not much to know yet -- he’s lost a lot of blood but… he has one of the best surgeons in the hospital in there with him. You couldn’t ask for anybody better.” He offered a gentle, reassuring smile. “Dr. Reid is going to take good care of him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy nodded, a little too quickly, like she was trying to convince herself that was true. She’d gone a shade paler at the mention of blood loss and her mouth had pressed into a thin line. He thought he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, but her cheeks were dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said at last, returning a weak, empty approximation of a smile. Her brow furrowed then, as she wrestled with something she clearly wanted to say. Andy took a deep breath and let the words tumble out again -- stronger this time than they had been before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I know you guys have rules about family members and next of kin and everything, but --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie cut her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll find you </span>
  <em>
    <span>as soon </span>
  </em>
  <span>as I know anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy looked relieved. “Thank you,” she said, blinking quickly as if the tears were finally threatening to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>During this exchange, Sam had come closer. He looked like he’d forgotten about Charlie entirely. A complicated mix of barely-concealed emotions played across his face. There was longing, maybe most of all. But there was something else too. Hesitation. Concern. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fear.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was within reach of her now, and Charlie saw his fingers stretch awkwardly towards her arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t work,” he warned aloud. It was meant for Sam -- any attempt to touch her was only going to leave him disappointed. Sam drew his hand back immediately, a flare of frustration on his face. But Andy glanced back up at him, eyes wide with surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry -- what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie cleared his throat, quickly fumbling for an excuse. “It won’t work,” he repeated. “Hiding out here by yourself. It won’t make the time pass any quicker…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed to satisfy Andy and her face relaxed a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should go to the waiting room,” he continued. “A bunch of officers from your division are still here…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy was shaking her head before he finished his sentence. “No -- I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But I’m good here.” An odd look flickered across her face. Charlie might have called it </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But it was gone before she went on. “I just need to clear my head, you know? It’s been… It’s been a pretty intense day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reality of her words hung in the air. Sam shifted uncomfortably beside him. There was something between them that Charlie didn’t understand. A layer to all this he was missing. Their feelings for each other -- that seemed obvious enough. But clearly it was more complicated than he knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A complicated romance? What were the odds? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought ruefully. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Welcome to the club, Detective.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m - uh - I’m gonna go check on Chloe and Oliver,” Andy said at last, breaking the silence. “The other officers who were hurt,” she clarified quickly. It sounded like an excuse -- she wanted to be alone again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nodded. “Of course. I’ll find you if anything changes with Detective Swarek.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be here. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right</span>
  </em>
  <span> here,” she added firmly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was only as he walked away, leaving a stoic Sam behind him, that Charlie realized the significance of the spot she’d chosen. Just beyond the doors at the end of the hall was the trauma bay. It was where she must have stood numbly by, watching as Sam was hurried off to have his chest cut open, his life in the balance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d known Andy McNally for all of three minutes, but suddenly he had a new reason to pull for Swarek. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam’s surgery was entering hour two when Charlie found him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The spirit had made himself scarce after their encounter with Andy and it didn’t take a genius to see why. There was something there -- something a helluva lot more complicated than a few unspoken feelings. But Charlie still had rounds to finish -- and he didn’t exactly have time to play relationship counselor to someone who wasn’t ready for it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that he’d have anything useful to say these days, anyway.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His own love life had gone spectacularly to hell. But whatever it was that had rattled Sam, he left Charlie to finish his work in peace. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The rare considerate ghost -- he could get used to it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as his shift came to an end, he found himself lingering. There was a time, not so long ago, when he would have gotten out of here as fast as possible, putting as much space as he could between himself and the ghosts. But that had been when going home was worth something. When home had been Alex. Now, all that was waiting for him was an empty hotel room and some crappy movie on pay-per-view. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let out a resigned sigh. He pictured the detective on the operating table and the woman with the sad eyes waiting for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Congrats, Swarek,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought ruefully. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tonight you’re more appealing than Rush Hour 3 on cable. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After ten minutes of searching, he made his way up to the gallery that overlooked the O.R. And sure enough, there was Sam. He was staring down at his own operation, arms crossed over his chest. At first glance, it looked like he was wrapped up in the surgery, watching each of Alex’s precise movements as she and her team pulled bullet fragments, one by one, from his abdomen. But Charlie saw something different. Swarek might be seeing the operation, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s going well,” he said. Sam’s head jerked up in surprise. He hadn’t noticed him come in. “The surgery, I mean,” Charlie continued. “I checked downstairs -- they’re feeling good about it…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great. Yeah -- that’s uh... that’s great.” Sam nodded distractedly. “How much longer?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure exactly -- but barring any complications, my guess is they’ll be closing soon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And -- how long am I gonna be like… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s gaze flicked back to Sam. He was wearing a look of grudging acceptance -- barely believing any of this, but not able to deny it either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Been there, buddy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wry smile spread across Charlie’s face. “That’s up to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean it doesn’t end once they stitch me up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie hesitated. This was dicey territory. How was he supposed to explain rules he barely understood himself? “You might wake up then. Most people do. Some people, though… well, they stick around for awhile…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to stay like this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s an excellent question,” he replied with a chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Sam looked irritated. “You always this helpful?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, this thing doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could tell that Sam wasn’t satisfied, but he’d clearly decided not to push it. Charlie was silently relieved. The less time he had to spend trying to explain the unexplainable, the better off they’d both be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Unless…</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It occurred to him then, as he watched Sam lean back against the window railing, eyes fixed on him intently, that this man was a detective. Not exactly the type to shrug it off when things didn’t quite add up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So -- why </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And there it was.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why me what?” he stalled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam wasn’t fooled. “Why are you the only one who can see me? Why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only one who can do the creepy ghost whisperer thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie didn’t miss the barb of mockery in the other man’s tone, but he didn’t rise to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>either,” Charlie replied, settling into one of the chairs and stretching out his legs. Might as well get comfortable — these chats usually managed to take awhile…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam stared at him for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, that’s the best you’ve got? I’m wandering around like friggin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Casper</span>
  </em>
  <span>, watching somebody slice me open --” The detective was trying to keep his cool, but his voice was rising as he spoke. “And that’s all you’ve got to say?” He shook his head, a humorless smile on his lips. “Hell of a bedside manner, doc…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He had a point</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After a moment’s hesitation, Charlie sighed and gave the best answer he could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright… A couple of years ago I was in a car accident. I wound up in a coma for eight months. I was like you — wandering around the hospital as a ghost. In a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tux, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if you can believe it… And when I finally woke up --” He gestured vaguely at Sam. “I could see </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam frowned. His next question didn’t surprise Charlie one bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what’s gonna happen to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Swarek, Charlie had quickly observed, wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> the emotive type. He tried to hide things before showing too much. Maybe that was down to his job — maybe it was something else, but in this moment, that control failed him. Even behind his stoic mask, the look of trepidation in his eyes was impossible to miss. Charlie wished he could give a comforting answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly? I have no idea… I doubt it. Most people wake up and they’re fine. They don’t even remember it </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But --” He thought of Randall Crane. “I’d be lying if I said I’d never met anyone else with this… ability before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was silent, his jaw clenched tightly. Charlie could see him on the verge of slipping back into his own brooding and quickly tried to draw him out. Keep him talking. Keep him open. That’s what usually worked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s Officer McNally?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he was being honest, he’d half expected Sam to still be lingering at her side, down there in the hall outside the E.R. It was the first place he’d looked when his shift ended -- but there was no sign of either of them. He didn’t want to make assumptions, but… it was hard to take that as an encouraging sign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam didn’t seem to think so either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She left,” he said tonelessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “She </span>
  <em>
    <span>left</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” But he quickly tried to contain the surprise. He’d talked to her. He’d seen the look on her face. He’d seen enough concerned loved ones to know which were the types to go home and rest and which were the types to stay chained to somebody’s bedside, rest be damned. Andy McNally seemed like the latter. “Where did she go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She - uh - went someplace with Epstein. He’s another officer in our division,” he explained. “To a diner, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie almost laughed, but managed to suppress it to no more than knowing smirk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This guy could really tie himself up in knots, couldn’t he? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good for her! She looked like she was about to pass out. And those vending machine ham sandwiches aren’t good for anybody.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Sam nodded, but didn’t look convinced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence fell in the gallery once more. Charlie waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He’d found a particularly interesting spot of carpet to stare at instead, buried in his own thoughts and worries. Charlie had to hand it to him -- he’d always thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the secretive type. But Sam Swarek might just give him a run for his money. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And it was getting annoying.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he prompted him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think she’s coming back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that I know Andy McNally,” Sam said, not looking up. “And I know her moves when things get complicated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nodded slowly. This was like pulling teeth -- stubborn, cryptic teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Complicated how?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked up then, a hint of amusement behind his eyes. “What are you -- my shrink? Wasn’t getting shot bad enough for one night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get it. I do. But in my experience, spirits always talk to me eventually… I just thought we could save ourselves some time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, by the looks of things, I’m not exactly in a rush,” Sam said, jerking his thumb towards the operation below. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually…” Charlie sat up in his seat, craning his neck to get a better look. “Actually it looks like something’s happening.” He stood up and moved towards the window. Alex was heading for the door, but nobody was moving to close. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something was wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I’ll go see what’s up.” And, with a glance back at Sam, “Don’t - uh - don’t go anywhere.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alex was just exiting the OR when he arrived. He could see the tension in her shoulders. Her scrub cap was still on and the same few familiar strands of hair that never seemed to cooperate were sticking out from beneath it. A month ago, he might have reached out and pushed them back behind her ear, but now he resisted the twitch of muscle memory in his fingers and kept his hands firmly clenched in his pockets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie cleared his throat and she turned, more than a little surprised to see him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie. You’re still here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I - uh - I had some extra paperwork to finish up…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he looked at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed and pulled off her mask. “There’s more bleeding than we thought. We were able to get the bullet out, but it ruptured his stomach, did some vascular damage… We didn’t see it at first with all the blood, but he’s got stomach fluids leaking into his bloodstream. He could go septic…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she looked up at him. He could see the worry in her eyes. “I have to get back in there. I just thought I should update his… </span>
  <em>
    <span>family.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She might not have been looking for his help when she came out, but he saw the slight flicker of relief in her eyes all the same. And it made his stomach squirm uncomfortably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah — don’t worry about it. You get back in there. I’ll take care of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Charlie,” she said, but didn’t move back towards the OR. Her brow furrowed a little and she looked up at him curiously. “That officer… McNally. Is she his next of kin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah - </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t think so. But, from the little I can gather, it’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>complicated.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Complicated.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The word hung in the air between them, and for a long moment, they simply stared at each other. He wondered if she was remembering the other day like he was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. And it breaks my heart.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He pushed the thought out of his mind -- she had more important things to be worrying about than what had broken between them. She had a life to save. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And then she’d go home -- to their old apartment. To Joel. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cleared his throat and the moment was over. She blinked and hurried back towards the sink to rescrub. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks again, Charlie,” she said, not looking up. Once more, it seemed it was easier to watch her hands than to look at him. “I’ll page you when we’re done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded. He felt empty -- and that wasn’t how he was supposed to feel around her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Alex.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The hospital was starting to quiet down. Night shifts were on, most visitors had departed, and the large, airy atrium was nearly empty. It was almost strange to see it like this, Charlie thought. But he couldn’t deny it made for a nice change. Peace and quiet wasn’t exactly a hallmark of a busy surgeon’s life. Especially not when that surgeon spent half his time talking to ghosts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Speaking of… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam stood next to him, eyes fixed on the city skyline beyond the high glass windows. He’d been quiet for a few minutes now -- since Charlie had explained the complication in his surgery. It was a lot to take in. And Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first time Sam had truly considered the possibility that he might not wake up at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s taking longer than we thought.” Charlie decided he might as well try to head off some of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>brooding.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “But you still have some of the best doctors in the city in there. There’s nothing about a little gastrointestinal perforation they can’t handle,” he said with a slight smile, a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded but didn’t look at him. It was clear he was wrestling with something in his own mind. A few more minutes of silence passed between them before he finally spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So --” he began awkwardly. “You want me to talk. What am I supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>say</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shrugged. “You tell me,” he said carefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam didn’t reply immediately, but Charlie could see he had something on the tip of his tongue. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Getting this guy to talk was impossible -- now all he had to do was not spook him out of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After what felt like an agonizing silence, Sam sighed. He kept his eyes fixed on the high wall of windows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It starts with McNally, I guess,” he said slowly. “But you probably figured that out already.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shot Charlie a sideways glance, as if for reassurance that this was the right track. Charlie waited for him to continue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We - uh - we used to be together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no kidding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam blinked in surprise at the quick retort -- but it had clearly done the trick. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of Sam’s mouth, and Charlie thought it might be the first genuine smile he’d seen from the guy all night. But it didn’t last long. The smirk faded and Sam went on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I screwed it up. From day one.” He glanced at Charlie. “I don’t know if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticed</span>
  </em>
  <span> but - uh - I’m not exactly an open book,” he said dryly. Charlie resisted the urge to tell him that was an understatement. “Anyway, we broke up, she left for awhile - went undercover, and now she’s got somebody else…” He paused, staring down at the half-empty lobby below. “Somebody who treats her a helluva lot better than I ever did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie waited for more. It was clearly an </span>
  <em>
    <span>abridged</span>
  </em>
  <span> version of whatever it was that had happened between Sam and Officer McNally. But he’d learned that there was only so hard you could push spirits. They had to do the work themselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what about you?” he said. “You didn’t move on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie could have sworn he saw a guilty look flash behind the other man’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried. I even </span>
  <em>
    <span>met</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone… And I thought if I worked at it hard enough, I’d get over McNally and get on with my life, you know? But --” He shook his head, trace of a rueful smile on his lips. “That didn’t work out so well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nodded. Sam didn’t need to explain. If there was one thing he understood, it was trying to treat heartbreak with other people. He felt his own pang of guilt as Dawn’s face appeared in his mind. It was only a few weeks ago that they’d rekindled… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>only to see it stop as abruptly as it began. It had been for the best, though. They were just two lonely people seeking some kind of shelter -- but ultimately needing more than either one could give. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but he understood Sam’s dilemma. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still in love with Andy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, neither of them said anything. Charlie sensed Sam needed a second. He doubted the man said that out loud very often -- let alone to a total stranger. After almost a minute of silence, he let out a long breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So -- you’re still in love with your ex, but she’s moved on. Is that it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded curtly, but there was a tension in his shoulders that told Charlie he wasn’t getting the whole story. So far, Sam had been a distant, hard to read pain in the ass. But something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he got the impression that the other man was ready to say more. He just needed a little encouragement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unrequited love. Yeah, that’s - uh - that’s tough…” Charlie frowned. “But there’s something I don’t understand.” He looked at Swarek, brows raised pointedly. “The woman I met downstairs didn’t look like somebody who’d moved on. She looked like she was watching her </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> fall apart…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam didn’t look at him. He didn’t say anything at all. There was more to this story, and, if he had to guess, it was the part that was eating at Swarek the most. This was more than just pining for an out-of-reach ex-girlfriend…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But whatever the answer was, it would have to wait. Suddenly, Sam’s face changed. His eyes zeroed in on the front entrance and he stood up straight. A strange new expression had fallen over his face. Charlie followed his gaze and saw two figures: a young male police officer and a woman. He didn’t recognize either of them. But a quick glance back at Sam was enough to tell him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> very much did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Sarah.” There was undisguisable shock in Sam’s voice. “My sister.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They hung back, just outside the waiting room, watching the scene unfold. They weren’t close enough to hear, but Sarah Swarek was having some kind of tense conversation with the young officer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nick Collins,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam said his name was. Charlie looked to him for something more -- some explanation about what the problem might be, but -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprise surprise</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- he didn’t immediately offer an explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, Collins moved off and the woman stood there uncomfortably, watching him go. Charlie could already see the family resemblance -- something about the way she carried herself, the lines in her face. Like her brother, she looked like she’d been through things, and had no intention of sharing </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Charlie didn’t know how Swarek’s sister fit into his… </span>
  <em>
    <span>issues</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but by the looks of things, he’d be finding out soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She must have sensed him watching her, because when she looked up, her eyes met his -- firm and unwelcoming. That was his cue, he suspected, to go have a word with her. But he’d barely taken a step in her direction when Sam stopped him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait -- You might not wanna do that… We -- uh --” He hesitated. “We’re not exactly… </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, really?</span>
  </em>
  <span> But Charlie kept the thought to himself. Maybe Sam didn’t fully understand yet, but the only way out of this was to get things out in the open. To get to the root of </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> was blocked up inside him. And if this was painful, it was probably a step in the right direction. With a last, pointed look at Sam, Charlie crossed the waiting room to his sister. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re Sam’s doctor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t beat around the bush, did she?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of them, yes. And you’re his --?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sister,” she said quickly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like ripping off a bandaid.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Sarah. Sarah Swarek.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sarah, I’m Dr. Harris. Your brother’s still in surgery --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Officer Collins told me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s taking a little longer than anticipated --” Charlie went on, ignoring the impatient tone in her voice. “They were able to remove the bullet, but it perforated his stomach. Now the danger is sepsis. I won’t pretend it’s not serious, but he has excellent surgeons in there. There’s every chance he’s gonna be just fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded numbly. “Thanks. That’s -- that’s good. I mean -- not </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> but…” She squeezed her eyes shut a moment and let out a breath. “You know what I mean...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat down in the nearest chair, but she didn’t look comfortable. Hands twisted nervously in her lap and one leg bounced up and down absently. Charlie could practically see her crawling out her skin, like she wanted to be about a million other places right now -- anywhere but here. He watched her, something between amusement and incredulity in his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This family really didn’t do human connection very well, did they?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry --” She stood again suddenly, agitated. “I told Officer Collins already, but -- I don’t know why I’m here. I haven’t seen my brother in years. There have got to be a hundred other people he’d rather see when he wakes up than me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shot a surreptitious glance Sam. He was watching her, the look of shock on his face quickly turning into something else. Something guilty. Finally, he ventured a look back at Charlie. The expression he wore wasn’t one Charlie could read for certain, but it definitely wasn’t the face of a man who wanted his sister gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, turning back to her with a faint smile on his lips. “Trauma has a way of putting things in perspective…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trauma,” she repeated bitterly. “Yeah, you don’t know us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True. I don’t. But he’s not out of the woods yet. I think you might regret it if you leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sarah stared at him, her face wearing the same stubborn expression he’d gotten used to on her brother. But after a moment, it vanished and she just looked tired. With a sigh, she sank back into her chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, I think I’ve had just about all the noble, do-gooder crap I can take for one day,” she said. But it was clear she’d already made her choice -- she was staying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie saw something like a smile on Sam’s lips. Whether he’d say it or not, he was glad to see her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you know when he’s out of surgery,” Charlie said with one final nod in Sarah’s direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they’d left the waiting room behind them, he glanced at Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One skeleton at a time, doc…”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie couldn’t put his finger on what it was, exactly, but something in Sam’s demeanor had changed. Maybe it was the questionable prognosis, maybe it was everything stirred up by the women in his life. Or maybe he was just <em> really </em> sick of being a ghost. But whatever the reason, when they left his sister behind, Sam had a determined look on his face. Without waiting for an explanation, Charlie led him downstairs to the one room where almost nobody would bother them: the morgue. </p>
<p>Taking a seat on the autopsy table, Charlie watched as Sam paced back and forth in front of the wall of coolers, arms folded over his chest. He opened his mouth, ready to prompt <em> some </em> kind of conversation, but Sam beat him to it. </p>
<p>“She told me she loves me.”</p>
<p>Charlie blinked in surprise. “Who -- Andy? When?”</p>
<p>“Yes, <em> Andy,” </em> Sam replied irritably. “Today. <em> Tonight. </em> In the ambulance before I passed out. She was just talking, trying to keep me awake. And… she told me she still loves me.”</p>
<p>Charlie blinked. “Sorry -- that’s a <em> bad </em> thing?”</p>
<p>Sam looked up at him and he could see the conflict behind his eyes. </p>
<p>“No, not a bad thing. Just… <em> complicated.” </em></p>
<p>“Everything is complicated,” Charlie said impatiently. “That doesn’t mean it’s not <em> worth </em> it.” </p>
<p>He didn’t have to ask if Sam thought Andy was worth it. The guy might be cryptic, but there were some things he wore on his sleeve. </p>
<p>Sam let out a humorless chuckle, and for about the hundredth time that night, Charlie wondered just how many layers of <em> history </em> these two had. Because he definitely didn’t get it. The woman he loved still had feelings for him. What about that wasn’t fantastic news? But Sam, it seemed, had doubts. Charlie pushed on. </p>
<p>“You don’t believe her?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that.”</p>
<p>“No, you don’t say much of <em> anything.” </em></p>
<p>Sam shot him a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“It means, for somebody who doesn’t want to be <em> stuck </em> like this, you sure don’t seem that interested in taking any help.”</p>
<p>“Oh -- <em> sorry,” </em> Sam snapped. “Got someplace else you need to be? <em> Be my guest…” </em> He gestured to the door. </p>
<p>Charlie pressed his lips into a thin, annoyed line. “You’re avoiding the question.”</p>
<p>“What question?”</p>
<p>“Do you think Andy meant what she said?”</p>
<p>“Yes!” </p>
<p>The immediate response surprised them both.</p>
<p>“Okay…” Charlie said slowly. “So, what’s the problem?”</p>
<p>Sam was pacing again. </p>
<p>“No offense, doc, but I don’t think <em> your </em> advice is gonna do me a lot of good on this one.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“You’re kidding, right?” he said, eyebrows shooting up. There was amusement in Sam’s eyes, and Charlie knew he wasn’t going to like where this was headed. Sam went on. “You think I’m gonna take romantic advice from you? Maybe you fool other people, but I saw you and <em> Dr. Wonderful </em> up there before my surgery. You looked like somebody kicked your puppy.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?”</p>
<p>“C’mon. <em> Dr. Reid. </em> You were looking at her like you two had some kinda <em> Shakespearean tragedy </em> thing going on.” His eyebrows shot up pointedly. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I’m a <em> cop. </em> It’s my job to know when people are feeding me bullshit…”</p>
<p>Charlie stiffened. He opened his mouth to argue -- and promptly shut it again. He wanted to deny it. To shut this conversation down before it went any farther. Alex was still a fresh wound -- and probably always would be. The last thing he had any intention of doing was digging into it with a ghost. That <em> wasn’t </em> how this was supposed to work. But he knew enough of Sam by now to know he wasn’t going to let it go so easily. <em> He was stubborn -- maybe even more stubborn than him. </em></p>
<p>He drew in a sharp breath and forced his face into as neutral an expression as he could manage. </p>
<p>“Fine. Yes. She used to be my fiancée.” </p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“And what?”</p>
<p>“Why isn’t she your fiancée anymore?” Sam smirked, crossing his arms over his chest triumphantly. <em> Not so fun being on this side, is it? </em>his look seemed to say. Charlie had the uncomfortable suspicion that this man was very good at his job.</p>
<p>He grit his teeth. <em> Just answer him -- he’s not going to remember any of this anyway. </em> “Okay… It ended because of -- well, because of <em> this.” </em> He gestured at Sam. “The ghosts. I didn’t know how to fit them into my life and it was hurting her, so... something had to give… By the time I’d gotten <em> some </em> kind of grip on myself, it was too late,” he said sharply. “Things had changed. <em> We </em> had changed.”</p>
<p>“But you want her back.”</p>
<p>“I do.” His voice was tight, to the point. </p>
<p>Sam considered him for a moment. For all he was enjoying not being the one in the hot seat, it was clear he could sympathize. The smirk softened a little.</p>
<p>“So? What are you gonna do about it?”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry?”</p>
<p>“How are you gonna get her back? Or am I supposed to take advice from a guy who <em> quits </em> when it comes to his own crap?”</p>
<p>Charlie opened his mouth, but promptly shut it again. He’d been about to say it was complicated. <em> Theme of the night, apparently.  </em></p>
<p>“She - uh - she’s with someone else, too.”</p>
<p>“Does he treat her better than you did?”</p>
<p>“<em> No,” </em> he answered firmly. Alex had told him enough about what had happened during her first go-round with Joel for him to feel confident in that. And if the rumors from around the hospital gossip mill were anything to go by, not much had changed in the intervening years. <em> Still… </em> Charlie couldn’t help but feel a nagging guilt in the pit of his stomach. “No, he doesn’t. But I could have been better,” he added quietly. </p>
<p>Sam shrugged. “So what are you worried about? She’s smart. I mean, if she’s up to her elbows in my guts right now, I <em> hope </em> she’s smart. Maybe she’ll figure it out.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, maybe,” said Charlie doubtfully. </p>
<p>Sam sighed and leaned back against the wall of coolers. He let out a rueful chuckle. “Well, when I wake up, I’ll buy you a beer. We can be pathetic together.”</p>
<p>Charlie smiled. “Thanks. But you’re not going to remember this.”</p>
<p>Silence fell between them again and for the first time that night it felt companionable. Charlie forced himself not to dwell on what Sam had said about Alex. That would be indulging in too much hope -- and that meant getting his heart broken all over again when she <em> didn’t </em> come back. At last, Charlie cleared his throat and tried to bring the topic back to where they’d started. Commiserating over ex-lovers aside, there was still the very real problem of Sam’s ghostly state to deal with. </p>
<p>“So. Andy loves you. But she’s with someone else. Is that all that’s on your chest? Because… it seems like you’re in a pretty good place to me,” he said, fixing Sam with a wry smile. </p>
<p>Sam didn’t answer, and Charlie saw the familiar cloud of doubt sweep across his eyes. But before the man could say more, Charlie’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. He fished into his scrubs to retrieve it and frowned intently at the screen. At last he looked up at Sam -- and there was something like a smile on his lips. </p>
<p>“<em>Speaking of…” </em> He hopped off the table and headed for the door, jerking his head for Sam to follow. “It looks like Andy’s back. She’s asking for an update... I mean, unless you’d rather brood down here…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He didn’t have to ask the nurses where to find her. The spot she’d chosen was predictable. A part of him wondered why she hadn’t chosen the small waiting room on the OR floor — it was closer to Sam, closer to answers. Or maybe that was just it. Those answers might not be the ones she wanted to hear. Down here, though, outside the trauma bay, at least she’d seen him staying alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Charlie rounded the corner, he saw Andy pacing aimlessly at the other end of the hall. Somehow she looked even more shaken than she had a couple hours before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That was some dinner break. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was a shame his news would only make things worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy had just taken a seat, her head thrown back against the wall, when a uniformed officer came around the corner at her end of the hall. Charlie recognized him. He was the same officer who’d brought Sarah Swarek to the hospital. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Officer Collins</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam had said. She saw him and immediately went to him, her expression a mix of relief and something more pained. There was something intimate in their body language, in the way Collins’ face softened a little at the sight of her and the way they leaned towards each other when they talked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie ventured a glance at Sam. The other man was painfully silent, but he was watching the scene unfold so intently, it spoke volumes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I’m guessing that who she’s --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He seems nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They silently watched the two figures at the end of the hall engaged in what looked like an increasingly uncomfortable conversation. Charlie could practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the tension coming off the man next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know,” he said. “One of the perks of being invisible is that you can listen in without anybody knowing…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam looked guilty, like he’d been caught. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He shook his head. “It’s none of my business.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a little bit your business,” Charlie said lightly. “She told you she loved you. You don’t think that’s relevant?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’ll tell me if she wants to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing! It’s just— that’s respectful of you. Especially considering you say you didn’t treat her very well,” he prodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I said,” Sam returned sharply. “I said I screwed up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An uncomfortable silence hung in the air until at last Sam broke it. With a little difficulty, he tore his eyes away from the conversation at the end of the hall and turned his back to them. “I’m - uh - I’m gonna go wait --” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead gesturing vaguely in the direction from which they’d come. He was gone before Charlie could say another word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a resigned sigh, Charlie turned back to his unpleasant task. The conversation between Andy and Nick, from what he could see, looked increasingly difficult. Her back was to him, but Charlie could see the tension in her frame and that Collins’ face had gone pale. As he ventured closer, steeling himself to interrupt with an update on Sam, he caught a few hushed, pained words passing between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“..... I told him I still loved him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...... </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Collins didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to. Charlie knew that look. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heartbreak.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Heartbreak and resignation. The officer mumbled some excuse and turned slowly, putting as much space as he could between himself and Andy as he walked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie hung back as best he could, but when she turned around, she saw him. For a moment, before her eyes widened with surprise, he saw the pain in them. Tears were threatening and the inner conflict was etched into the exhausted lines of her face. He doubted she could have hidden it if she tried. For as tightly guarded as Sam kept his emotions, Andy wore hers on her sleeve. And not for the first time that night, Charlie felt for her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But a moment was all she needed. Quickly, she blinked the tears back and forced a calming breath into her lungs. She still looked miserable, but she was clearly determined to keep it together --  even if it was just by the skin of her teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?” he said, trying to pretend he hadn’t just heard something he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> shouldn’t have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded mutely. “Is there any news on Sam?” Her voice sounded ragged and strained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God, he hated this part.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a complication during surgery,” he said simply. If his impressions of Andy were anywhere close to correct, he suspected she’d just want the facts -- plain and honest. When he finished explaining what had happened, she sat back down heavily on the bench. Her face was stony. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She looked numb.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that mean? Is he — is he going to…?” she managed, voice barely a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sat down beside her. He waited a moment until she looked at him and fixed her with a firm gaze. “I can’t tell you it’s not serious. But he has every chance of pulling through this.” He waited for a sign that she believed him, but didn’t get one. So he pushed on. “The best general surgeon in the hospital is in there with him right now. And trust me --” He offered a slight smile of reassurance. “She is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to give up on him. Not as long as there’s a chance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy stared at him for a long moment. She was searching his eyes for any sign that he wasn’t giving it to her straight. But finally, she let out the breath she’d been holding and gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a reassuring nod of his own, Charlie stood up. He wanted to go check back in with Alex. Maybe she’d made some progress. But as he turned to go, something stopped him. A nagging in the back of his mind. He knew he hadn’t given Andy much in the way of comfort. He’d walk away and she’d still be buried in fears. But he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> reassure her on another front… Her relationships were none of his business. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>… well, tonight they were his job. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing aside his discomfort, he turned back to her. “Look -- I know it’s none of my business but… I heard what you said. To the officer who was just here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy looked up, her expression guarded. Charlie couldn’t blame her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam. He - uh - he mentioned you,” he went on when she didn’t say anything. “Before we put him under, he asked about you. If you were still here.” It was stretching the truth, but Charlie had long since gotten used to twisting the facts -- he doubted she’d react well to the news that her ex-boyfriend’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost</span>
  </em>
  <span> told him he was still in love with her and wanted to fix things. He cleared his throat. “Like I said, it’s none of my business but don’t give up on something just because it’s complicated. You’ll end up regretting it -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He half expected her to get angry. To tell him off for sticking his nose in her business. And she’d be justified. But, to his relief, she didn’t. Her gaze drifted off into the distance over his shoulder and her brow furrowed a little. She wasn’t mad. She was too tired to be mad. She was just thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone chirped his pocket and Andy blinked, the moment broken. He offered a quick smile of apology and checked the message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam’s out of surgery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy stood up. “And?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dr. Reid is feeling confident,” he said carefully, scanning the text again. Sam wasn’t awake yet. They weren’t out of the woods. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not to mention his… ghostly problem.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He knew better than to start making promises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I see him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet. We’ll let you know once he’s in recovery -- okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded and he could feel her watching him as he walked away down the hall.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlie felt a small swell of pride as Alex described what she and her team had done to get Sam through the worst of it. He was still unconscious, and there was more than a little still up in the air. But she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopeful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Now there was nothing left to do but wait and see...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should go home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex’s voice broke the silence that had fallen between them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was always silences now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Charlie glanced up from Sam’s chart, hint of a rueful smile on his lips. She didn’t know it, but his job was nowhere near finished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your shift ended </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> long ago?” she went on, one brow raised pointedly as she took back the chart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was trying to be friendly. Cheerful, even. But Charlie knew her too well to miss the awkwardness behind the smile. She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore — how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>talk. There had once been an ease that existed between them, almost from the first day they’d met. And now somehow that was gone. Snatched away with whatever else about her she’d lost in that coma. But this was how it was now. And maybe the agony of it was better than not seeing her at all…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cleared his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A few hours. But it’s fine. I still have a few things to do…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Of course.” She nodded politely and fell silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But clearly there was something else on her mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are so curious about him?” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean -- you really </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have to step in tonight, Charlie. There was obviously </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie hesitated. He wasn’t going to give her the real explanation -- there was no way she wanted to hear that. She knew about his ability</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But whether or not she </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed</span>
  </em>
  <span> it… that he had no idea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even after the things that had passed between them during her coma, the things they’d said -- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cut that train of thought off quickly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She doesn’t remember. And she doesn’t believe you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He fumbled for an excuse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I talked to one of the other officers earlier. Officer McNally? She was the one who --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-- wanted to stay with him. I remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, I ran into her again and we talked a little…” Charlie paused. He didn’t quite know how to describe the look he’d seen in Andy’s eyes, and how hard it had been to shake. “I just took an interest, I guess…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex studied him for a moment, and Charlie wished he could read what was in her head. But whatever she was looking for, she either found or gave up on. She nodded and her gaze drifted back towards the now-empty O.R. and what was left of the surgery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They told us what happened to him,” she said. “He took a bullet for another officer. There was someone in the station hunting them down, and Sam took a bullet for one of them... He saved someone’s life, Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie didn’t say anything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, Swarek had left out a few details, hadn’t he?</span>
  </em>
  <span> His gaze followed hers to the empty O.R. as he silently replayed each interaction he’d had with the man’s ghost. The faintest hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So he was a heroic ass as well as a stubborn one. Figured</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinked. Alex was looking at him strangely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Just tired… I hope Swarek pulls through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she said quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Awkwardness, confusion -- and the rush of shared memory rooted them to the spot. But it didn’t last. She broke their gaze and hurriedly turned back to Sam’s chart to make a few final notes. He tried to ignore the crushing disappointment in his chest. He’d been right all along. This was it -- this was how it was going to be between him and Alex from now on. He saw that now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the past few years, he’d doled out a lot of talk about hope -- but here, in the one place it mattered most, there wasn’t any. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll - um - I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Alex’s voice broke through his thoughts once more. She was looking at him with the careful mask back in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get some rest, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled weakly, and something almost tender peeked out from behind the politeness in her eyes. “Thanks again. For everything you did tonight, Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you saved him. I just played the messenger.” He returned the smile and for a long moment neither of them said anything. It was the most comfortable they had been all night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie, I --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alex?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A familiar voice interrupted from the doorway. Charlie’s smile froze on his lips. Alex blinked guiltily and scribbled the last of her notes in Sam’s file before handing it off to the nurse behind the desk. She turned in the direction of the voice, a bright smile on her face that Charlie thought looked as forced as the one she’d been giving him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Joel,” she said. “Hey!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was already in his street clothes, looking a degree of </span>
  <em>
    <span>relaxed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Charlie hadn’t felt in a long time. He glanced between the two of them, sensing he might have been interrupting something. For a moment, all three stared at each other uncomfortably, no one quite sure what to say. There was a metaphorical </span>
  <em>
    <span>mammoth</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the room between them, but they all knew it was just going to have to stay that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joel turned to Alex. “You ready to head out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah -- just need to get changed. Meet you in ten?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” he nodded. He glanced back at Charlie. “ ‘Night, man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Joel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then they were gone, and he was alone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It wasn’t hard to find Sam’s room. The whole hospital was talking about what had happened at 15 Division -- all he had to do was follow the trail of whispered gossip and he’d find him. Apparently one of the other wounded officers had had a close call of her own -- she’d coded and scared the hell out of everybody. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something about a blood clot…</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was glad to hear she was going to be fine, but more than anything he was just glad he only had </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> spirit on his hands tonight. Sam Swarek was a challenge all by himself...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped outside the detective’s room, flashing a quick smile at the nurse on shift. He proceeded to lie through his teeth about promising Dr. Reid he’d look in on him before heading out for the night. Too busy to ask questions, the nurse merely returned the tired smile and handed him Sam’s chart. Charlie had barely crossed the threshold when a familiar voice greeted him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should be awake by now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, there was Swarek, frustration etched across his face. He was standing beside the bed -- beside his own unconscious body as it lay hooked up to beeping monitors. This time, Charlie couldn’t really blame the guy for his attitude. He knew from experience just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>unsettling</span>
  </em>
  <span> a sight like that was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the nurse outside was still engrossed in her own work. “We talked about this,” he replied calmly. He went to the nearest monitor, checking for any worrying signs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So far so good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Your surgery had complications. Give your body a little time to recover. In the meantime…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s eyebrows raised expectantly. There was a trace of impatience behind his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“While we’re waiting on your body, maybe we ought to talk about something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Charlie continued, tapping his temple pointedly. “Finish our conversation…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could see from Sam’s expression that the tentative progress they’d made -- how </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d come to getting whatever the hell this issue was off his chest -- was threatening to collapse. And he understood. For a moment, his thoughts rushed back to his coma, to his </span>
  <em>
    <span>insistence </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he just wanted to heal. But the closer he’d gotten to the truth -- to the real reason he’d stayed so long in that spirit world -- the harder he’d fought with himself. It was like flinching away when someone touched an open wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he’d been treading too carefully. Maybe what Swarek needed wasn’t a gentle coaxing, but a kick in the ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he spoke again, it was blunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well -- that’s assuming you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to wake up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You heard me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man stared at him incredulously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I wanna stay like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You of all people should know that’s a load of --”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought, too,” Charlie interrupted, idly turning his gaze to Sam’s chart and flipping through a few pages. “I had a fiancée to get back to. A job. A life I liked -- but nope. It was me. It turned out there were some things I had to deal with before I could wake up. And a part of me wanted to avoid it more than I wanted to fix it.” He met Sam’s eyes again. “What are you avoiding, detective?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a long moment, Sam simply stared at him. In his eyes there was a struggle, his better judgement wrestling with something else -- something </span>
  <em>
    <span>older.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Charlie realized he’d been wrong before. This wasn’t like pulling teeth -- this was a major surgery all of its own. But at last, some of the tension went out of Sam’s face and the fight went out of his eyes. Hands settling on his hips, he stared at his shoes, steeling himself for what came next. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever the hell that might be.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said at last, hands dropping to his sides. “I’ll… </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Just -- not here? This --” He nodded to his unconscious body. “This is too weird.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gave him a tiny smile. “You got it.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The O.R. was empty now, but Sam stared down at it just as intently as if his body was still below, under the knife and fighting to survive. They leaned against the railing of the gallery, neither speaking for awhile. Charlie sensed he didn’t need to push anymore. He just needed to wait. He ventured a glance over at the other man -- the strong lines of his face that had been set so stubbornly just a few hours ago, now looked tired. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tired and sad.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You - uh - you were right,” he said at last. Charlie’s brows raised questioningly. “Andy telling me how she felt… that wasn’t the problem.” He let out a breath, eyes still fixed on the O.R. below. “I’m the problem. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ve always been the problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam shook his head. “I never told her how I felt about her. When we were together. I - I thought I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>showing</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, y’know? But… she needed more than that. And the worst part is I think I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>she needed more. But I couldn’t give it to her. Well --” A rueful smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “At least not until it was too late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie was quiet for a moment, waiting to see if the officer would say more. When he was only met with silence, he nodded slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay… What stopped you from telling her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam drew in a sharp breath, turning suddenly away from the gallery window. He found a spot on the opposite wall to fix his gaze on instead, still not meeting Charlie’s eyes. After a long silence, he let out a humorless chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lots of things, I guess… I’d never said anything like that to anybody before. I was -- I don’t know, I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie could hear the discomfort in his voice. He didn’t like saying it all aloud, but as the words began to flow a little easier, Charlie couldn’t help but think a part of him was </span>
  <em>
    <span>relieved</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to have it bottle up so tightly. Even if it was only for a moment or two. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scared of what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scared that I’d hurt her.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie didn’t speak. Sam was still staring at the blank gallery wall, but there was something different in the air. He had momentum now -- momentum that was coming from some place older than his relationship with McNally. Someplace that, Charlie suspected, even Sam didn’t usually like to examine too closely. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But nothing about tonight was usual.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The detective went on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My dad was a real sonofabitch, y’know? Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a real sonofabitch. He’s in prison. Has been -- on and off -- for pretty much my whole life.” He stopped, steeling himself to say more. Charlie wondered how often he’d put this into words before. “When he was out, he was always… Well, he was an angry drunk. Had a chip on his shoulder -- felt the world owed him something. And when he didn’t get it, he took it out on the rest of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another silence filled the room. Sam was off somewhere else, in dark memories that cast a shadow on his face. Charlie didn’t need to press for details to understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he wanted so bad for me to be like him. Always telling me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be a man</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- to toughen up. Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> had it rough, so it was only fair that I should too -- I don’t know…” He trailed off a moment, his eyes drifting down to a spot on the carpet. “I hated him so much for it, and I got out of that house as fast as I could, but --” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At last, he looked up at Charlie and for the first time that night, nothing in his expression was hidden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if it worked?” he said quietly. “What if that’s what I’m gonna turn into? How am I supposed to expect another person to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live with</span>
  </em>
  <span> that… I can’t. Especially not Andy.... More than anything, I don’t want to hurt her.” Another sad smile spread across his lips. “But I guess I did anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, there it is.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie eyed him for a moment. Sam was trying to hold it all back, but it wasn’t working. His face suddenly looked lined -- as if years of fear and pain had suddenly caught up with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Charlie understood. It was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>funny</span>
  </em>
  <span> how well he understood. Tweak the story a bit, and it might have been him, only a few months ago. Pushing people away to avoid hurting them, only to watch it blow up in his face? </span>
  <em>
    <span>That was pretty much his speciality. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d withdrawn from his friends, his colleagues. He’d pulled away from Alex. For what? To protect them -- to keep them safe from… </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was now. And it had only made the world a helluva lot colder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going to belive this but… I get it,” Charlie said at last. There was doubt in Sam’s eyes, but he didn’t argue. Charlie let out a sigh. “I told you before about Alex? About how the ghosts got in the way? Well, I was the one who left. I knew she’d want to try and help. To </span>
  <em>
    <span>fix</span>
  </em>
  <span> whatever’s wrong with me… And I knew she couldn’t. I figured it was better to end things before she got hurt.” A wistful smile of his own quirked on his lips. “And now here we are…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A couple of depressing bastards,” Sam said dryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That we are...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie took a focusing breath and broke the contemplative silence that had fallen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, let me see if I’ve got the gist of it,” he said. “You push people away because you’re afraid they’re going to find out you’re just like your abusive father -- and that you’ll screw up their lives the way he screwed up yours. And Andy still loving you means you might do it to her all over again. Does that about cover it?” he said, brows raising slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam blinked. He opened his mouth to say something and promptly shut it again. “Uh -- yeah, I guess those are the highlights,” he managed after a beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nodded, his brow furrowing a little. He’d said it all casually, but this time, there was something more serious in his voice. “So -- do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re like him? Like your father?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was silent for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was looking down at the carpet again, fighting with himself on how to express what came next. “I - uh - I’m the reason he’s in prison.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie stared. “Sorry?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Years ago, he was a suspect in a robbery,” Sam continued slowly, still not meeting his eye.  “And uh -- well, I was his alibi. But I told the cops he was lying about it and… he went away for six months. Inside, he got in a fight with another inmate and killed him. Six months turned into twenty years.” He lapsed into silence again, but when he at last looked up at Charlie, it was clear he expected harsh judgement. “I put my own father in prison for something he didn’t do -- and I’ve never spent a single </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> regretting it. What kind of person does that make me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie didn’t have an immediate answer for that. But he didn’t have to ponder too long to find one. On the surface maybe he could see the dilemma, the question of conscience to wrestle with. But underneath it, he didn’t think the reality came close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>During the silence that followed his admission, Sam had lapsed back into self-recriminating quiet, as if Charlie’s lack of response had only confirmed what he was already sure of. But Charlie wasn’t having it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds to me like he’s where he belongs…” Sam didn’t answer and Charlie pushed on. “You want to know what kind of person would do that? Well, I’ll tell you what I see. I see a guy who’s spent his life trying to protect people. A guy who took a bullet for somebody else. Who’s spent -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t even know how long -- afraid he’s going to hurt somebody he loves, and beating himself up over his mistakes.” He paused, waiting until Sam reluctantly met his eyes. “I don’t know your father, but he doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who’d bother with any of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie gave him a slight smile. “Whatever battle you think you’ve got to fight with your past? Well, I think you already won.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They lingered outside the waiting room. Inside, Sarah Swarek was thumbing through one of the old magazines scattered haphazardly about. She looked more settled than when they’d last seen her, but from what Charlie could tell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>settled</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a relative term for this family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam hesitated in the doorway, considering her for a long moment. When he glanced back at Charlie, he shrugged. “What am I supposed to do next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to wake up, don’t you?” Charlie replied with a pointed look at the other man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… what do you want from her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam blinked. “Nothing. She’s not even part --” He stopped when he saw Charlie’s expression. He let out a sigh, taking a moment to focus on his shoes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want her to stay,” he said quietly. But when he looked at Charlie again, there was a slight, rueful smile on his lips. “But she’s not gonna want to. Look at her -- she’s practically crawling out of her skin to get out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie glanced back at Sarah. Sam had a point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She stayed this long. That has to count for something,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe… but it’s a helluva lot easier to get along with somebody when they’re under general anesthetic,” Sam replied dryly. He hesitated, as if considering whether he should say more. But at last came the halting admission. “Whenever we talk, we fight. About our dad. She’s the forgive and forget type, I guess. And I’m… not.” He shook his head. “The second I wake up, it’ll start all over again. She’s not going to stay,” he added, a note of finality in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see about that,” Charlie said with a slight smirk, striding into the waiting room before Sam had a chance to protest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked up when she noticed him and, for a spit second, Charlie saw the worry in her eyes before before the mask slipped into place once more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam Swarek was many things,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And, tonight, ‘moron’ was pretty high on the list.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So -- is he gonna be okay?” she said when he reached her, once again cutting straight to the point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie offered her a small, but genuine, smile. “He’s out of surgery and everything’s looking good. He’s still unconscious, so we won’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>be sure until he wakes up, but… odds are he’s going to be just fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sarah let out a sigh. The relief was unmistakable, even from behind her coolly detached expression. Charlie ventured a glance towards Sam, still hovering by the doorway. He was listening intently, that same unreadable look on his face. But before Charlie could decipher it, Sarah interrupted by standing abruptly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great, that’s -- that’s great. Really.” She was reaching for her bag. “So, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> need me here. I should head back then. It’s -- um -- it’s a long trip.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re leaving?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah… I’m glad he’s okay, you know, but…” She gave him the same rueful smile her brother had just a few moments earlier. “I think it’s for the best if I don’t stick around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not gonna want to see me and... I’d just rather skip over the part where we get pissed at each other and argue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> argue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowned. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie backtracked quickly. “I just think that he shouldn’t wake up alone. He’s been through a lot tonight and… he’ll want to see a familiar face. Fights and or no fights.” She looked unconvinced and he pushed on. “Look. Sam got lucky. He’s got another chance here -- and it could easily have gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> differently.” He fixed her with a gentle, but pointed look. “Don’t waste this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a long time before she said anything. The struggle was playing out clearly in her eyes, but he could see the same look Sam had had. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She wanted another chance -- she just wasn’t sure it was possible.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But at last, she came to a decision. With an exasperated shake of her head, she held up her hands in resignation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ll stay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s smile widened. “Good choice,” he said with a nod. “I’ll have someone let you know when he’s awake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded and sank back into her chair, old magazine forgotten as she stared off into space. She’d agreed to give family another shot. But the question of </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t seem so easily answered. Still, as far as Charlie was concerned, that was a win. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he met Sam in the doorway, he was wearing a smug grin. “See? No sweat. Now just don’t screw it up.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When he found Andy, she had taken up a new vigil. Sitting beside Sam’s bed, her face bore tired lines, and the shadows under her eyes had deepened. It was the weight of this whole, hellish day finally taking its toll. Charlie would have urged her to go home and sleep if he thought it would have made any difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie rapped his knuckles lightly on the door jamb. She looked up. If she felt any hostility towards him for sticking his nose into her love life, she didn’t show it. She offered him a tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He thought she looked less </span>
  <em>
    <span>pained</span>
  </em>
  <span> than she had a few hours earlier -- but the world was still on her shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you holding up?” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you know…” she said, a note of exhausted humor in her voice. “Pretty </span>
  <em>
    <span>great.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” But the smile didn’t last long as her gaze shifted back to the bed and Sam’s unconscious body. “I’m just -- I’m glad he’s okay. I don’t know what I would have done if --” She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. Sam -- the </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him, anyway -- was standing in the doorway. His eyes were fixed on Andy, watching her watch him. There was a look of resolve on his face now and Charlie did his best not to smile at the sight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>See, pal? Getting hit over the head a few times usually does the trick… </span>
  </em>
  <span>He cleared his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he’s lucky you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t respond, instead lost in her own thoughts. After a long moment, she stretched a hand out, brushing her fingers over Sam’s, tracing an idle pattern over the back of his hand. Behind him, Charlie heard the spirit draw in a sharp breath. He remembered this feeling, from when he’d been in Sam’s shoes, when Alex had stayed by his bedside. It was a strange, tingling warmth -- a touch that was palpable and real, but somehow just out of reach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, ‘touch’ was the wrong word.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was a sensation, something that went much deeper than skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should probably be mad at you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy’s voice broke the silence and Charlie’s gaze snapped back to her face. She’d let go of Sam, her hands now lying limply in her lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced back at him, eyebrows raised slightly. “Does your job </span>
  <em>
    <span>usually</span>
  </em>
  <span> involve romantic advice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie smiled sheepishly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She really had no idea.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Not exactly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy nodded. “Well, I know I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be mad at you for that. But I’m not. I’m --” Her brow furrowed as she trailed off. She was wrestling with something she hadn’t quite found the words for. “You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know,” she said quietly. “I think I tried to convince myself otherwise, but…” She smiled then, softly. And this time it reached her eyes. “I’ve never been a very good liar. Except maybe to </span>
  <em>
    <span>myself.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence hung in the air between them for a moment, but before Charlie could say anything, she stood abruptly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry! I’m so sorry --” she said, with a self-conscious wave of her hand. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this stuff. You’ve got better things to worry about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’d be surprised the things people tell me,” he replied lightly, giving her a half shrug. “I think I’ve got one of those faces.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grinned in response, and for a second Charlie could see why half the Toronto police force seemed to be in love with her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> For… I don’t know. Not kicking me out,” she said, holding out a hand to him awkwardly. “And for the advice, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grasped her fingers in his own. “Are you going to take any of it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t answer at first. Gently letting go of his hand, she looked back at Sam in the bed. He could see the battle wasn’t completely won. And if everything the detective had told him tonight was true, he suspected it wouldn’t be won easily. But when she turned back to him, there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, nothing was won yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But it would be -- in time. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a last nod to Andy, he turned to go. Sam was still behind him, his attention nowhere but on the woman who had now reclaimed her seat by his bed. The man had been a guarded pain in the ass all night, but there was no mistaking the fact that the look in his eyes had softened and they now held something that looked a lot like </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A knowing smirk on his lips, Charlie pushed past him out into the corridor. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>That should have been the end of it. Sam was out of the woods -- it was only a matter of time before he woke up. And he had his answers now. Or at least, he had as close to them as he was going to get. This was the part in the story where the spirits disappeared -- they went back to their bodies, or onto </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> came next. Either way, Charlie’s part was done. So it came as something of a surprise when he heard Swarek’s voice calling after him down the hall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned, brows raised expectantly. “Look, I know I’m exciting company but, don’t you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> places to be?” he said dryly when Sam reached him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The detective smiled. “Yeah, I do. But --” He hesitated. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Charlie could see the sudden self-consciousness in his eyes. “Just… thanks,” Sam managed finally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well -- it’s all part of the service,” Charlie replied with a dismissive shrug. He kept his tone light. For all the work Swarek had done tonight, he suspected </span>
  <em>
    <span>humor</span>
  </em>
  <span> was still the easier course. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And maybe the guy deserved a break from the heavy stuff…</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Lucky for you, we don’t bill you for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam chuckled. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Generous.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thanks.” The grin faded slightly. “Seriously. I - uh - I guess you were right. It’s -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> I might have needed a kick in the ass…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re not gonna remember any of this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man blinked. “You were serious? So you’re saying that </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of that</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- spilling my guts out -- that’s not gonna mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Charlie reassured him quickly. “You’re not going to remember me, or anything we </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- not consciously anyway. But… something will be different. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel different.” He shrugged. “Like somewhere during your surgery you had -- I dunno -- an </span>
  <em>
    <span>epiphany.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam considered that a moment, gauging how far he believed it. But whatever he decided, the glint of amusement was soon back in his eye. And for the first time all night, he looked truly at ease. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An epiphany, huh?” He offered Charlie a last wry smirk and a shrug of his shoulders. “Alright -- I guess I’ll take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with a faint, familiar, glow of light, he was gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie let out a long breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So, that’s that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He moved slowly back down the hallway towards Sam’s room. Pausing outside the window, he peered in through the open blinds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andy still sat beside the bed, her hands in her lap, eyes fixed on her fingers with an unseeing gaze. But after a moment, there was movement on the bed. Sam’s eyes opened slowly and he shifted uncomfortably under his bandages. Charlie could see the slow smile spread across Andy’s lips when she saw it. Sam was saying something then, and she stood and drew closer to the bed. Soon the two were locked in a conversation Charlie couldn’t hear. But he didn’t need to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile the detective was wearing was softer than anything he’d seen all night. The sarcastic lines around his mouth were gone and the look in his eyes was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>open</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Charlie couldn’t see Andy’s face anymore, but the tension in her shoulders had vanished. He suspected her smile looked a lot like Sam’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>officially</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t his business anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning back down the hall, Charlie at last directed his reluctant steps towards his office. The further he walked, the heavier his stomach felt. There was no avoiding it anymore -- he had to go home. His empty hotel room and even emptier bed were calling him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, Swarek and his problems had been a nice distraction. A satisfying one, even. Charlie’s own love life might be in shambles, but not everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> had to be… And if he couldn’t fix his own situation, it felt good fix Sam’s. At least it meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span> something. It meant being something other than helpless... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Charlie got to his office, he sank into his desk chair and powered down his laptop. He watched the screen until it went black and only his murky reflection remained in the glass. Another thought was nagging him now. The parallel between his and Sam’s situations wasn’t exact, but it had been enough for him to feel a special sympathy. An unspoken camaraderie with a fellow screw-up who wanted nothing more than the woman he’d lost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that’s where the similarities stopped. Because, at the end of the day, Swarek had something he didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A chance. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, Andy was up in Sam’s room, looking at him with glad eyes, taking gentle steps back towards… </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was they’d been before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Alex… Alex was at home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Their</span>
  </em>
  <span> home -- with a man who’d crept back into her life and filled a place she’d forgotten was filled already. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t love you anymore.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Those were the words she’d said to him then. She’d left that love and everything they’d shared behind her in that coma. And now she was farther away from him than she’d ever been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where was the chance in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie snapped his laptop closed and let out a sharp breath. He was feeling sorry for himself  and he didn’t like it</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He stood up, went to the closet and pulled out his street clothes. Quickly, he changed out of his scrubs, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He had to get out of here. </span>
  </em>
  <span> Some fresh air, a drive… It would give him a chance to clear his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as he pulled the door closed behind him, something Sam had said came back to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s smart. Maybe she’ll figure it out. </span>
  </em>
  <span> Charlie screwed his eyes shut a moment, trying to quell the feeling that was already welling up in his chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hope.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was as infectious as anything treated in this hospital, and he could feel its warmth curling around the lump of disappointment that had become permanently lodged in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Forgotten things could be remembered. Lost things could be found. Maybe one day…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie cut the thought short and headed down the now-quiet halls towards the lobby and the cold night beyond. For Swarek, it was time to act -- to do something now or lose the girl forever. But for himself? No. There was only one thing Charlie could do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could wait. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could wait and he could hope. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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